A Dogs Life
In an attempt to lighten up my poem site I offer
this doggeral style ditty about my neighbor's dog-
I used to range those farming fields,
It became my daily habit;
And oft when roaming far and wide,
I'd catch a big fat rabbit.
Every possum, skunk and cat I saw
Were always under siege.
I'd chase them til completely pooped
Then sit and scratch my fleas.
But, then my master moved to town,
Oh! What a dreadful change;
Now, I am tethered to a leash,
No longer can I range.
I cannot run, or bark, or jump
But, in neighbor's yard I poop.
My master, though required by law
Does not own a pooper-scoop.
They call me Rover, though I can't,
That causes me much strife.
At last I've learned why one would say
'I'm leading a dog's life'.
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